


The Collateral Damage of Tree Sex

by ReaperWriter



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Allergies, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Drabble, For Zarhooie, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaperWriter/pseuds/ReaperWriter
Summary: Quill's congested. The reason makes him lose his shit.





	The Collateral Damage of Tree Sex

**Author's Note:**

> It’s allergy season, and I am pretty miserable today. Let’s just chalk this little drabble up to anti-histamine based hallucinations, shall we? For zarhooie, who thought this was a hilarious idea. Enjoy.
> 
> Imported for Tumblr being Dumbr reasons.

The first time it happens, Quill thinks nothing of it. Occasionally, as their crew visits various worlds, he’ll run into something that will trip the same symptoms that have plagued him from childhood. Sneezing? Check. Watery eyes? Check. Congestion? Check. Headache to beat the band? Check. He doses up on the space equivalent of Sudafed and crashes out until the attack is over. 

If it seems odd that this time, they’ve been ship bound for at least three days before any symptoms start, well, who knows? Space, man.

The second time it happens, he’s just confused. They’ve been on board the ship, passing through deep space that has an anomaly that messes with hyper drive function for almost six days straight when his eyes start watering and the sneezing starts. Gamora looks at him sideways from where they’ve been sitting in the bridge of the little ship. When he asks her to take over, she nods without comment, and he heads to his bunk and sleep and little acid green space pills.

The third time, it’s just ridiculous. The planet they have just spent time on is a desert world where almost nothing pollinates, and surely nothing he’d be allergic to (succulents and cactuses are his friends). But now he’s wheezing and miserable as he sits at the table in the galley, letting Drax (of all people) make him some kind of tea thing, and he just wants to lay his head down on the table and die.

And that’s when he notices it. A fine dusting, like flour or sand or glitter, coating the table. It’s yellow like a bad earth kitchen color scheme from the 1970s, and vaguely sticky and if he wasn’t so close to dropping face first against the flat surface, he’d never have seen it. “What the…”

Suddenly, it makes sense. The first attack had been 12 weeks ago. The second right around six weeks. “Son of a conifer.’ He moves, washing his hand carefully, and then going in search of the dysfunctional duo.

Rocket and Groot sit in their bunk; Rocket cleaning his gun carefully, and Groot …doing that weird meditative tree thing. They both look up at him in the doorway.

“Dammit, Groot, are you pollinating?” Only it comes out sounding weirdly slurred, because allergy meds and an inability to breathe through his nose.

“I am Groot.” The answer, as usual, is incomprehensible without translation. And his raccoon looking friend obliges.

“Dude, you can’t just…you don’t just ask someone that!” Rocket’s level of offense would be funny, if Quill didn’t feel like death warmed over.

“Look, I don’t care normally, but I have pollen allergies. I need to know if that’s what’s happening.” 

Groot sits up, looking as sheepish as a tree could look, then nods. “I am Groot.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, again, Quill nods back. “And it happens about every six weeks?”

“I am Groot.”

“Okay.” Rocket sputters at him. “So, six weeks from now, we are going to stop at some planet that seems nice to you, and we are going to give you a few days’ vacation. Deal buddy?”

“I am Groot!”

“He says yes.” Rocket had stopped sputtering and now looked at him. “Do I get a vacation too?”

“Do you pollinate?”

The raccoon shot him a look. “I’ll have you know, that is discrimination!” 

Quill sighed. “Vacation for everyone then. Just no more pollinating on my ship, got it?”

“I am Groot.” 

“Right.” He turned and headed back down the hall, passing a highly amused Gamora. “Not a word.”

Accepting the tea from Drax, he headed towards his own bunk and his supply of tissues and anti-histamines. Days like this, he can’t quite remember why this whole team thing seemed such a good idea after all.


End file.
